


Voices

by insanitys_cowgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanitys_cowgirl/pseuds/insanitys_cowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The words rattled around in Sam's head, echoing and repeating themselves. A jumble of voices, all telling him the same thing. Telling him the truth. <br/>"Monster." <br/>"Freak."<br/>"Untrustworthy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices

_Monster. It means you're a monster._

_If you can't save Sam, you'll have to kill him._

_You're a vampire, Sam._

_I want you to loose my number._

_You walk out that door, don't you ever come back._

_Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood._

_You turned yourself into a freak, a monster._

The words rattled around in Sam's head, echoing and repeating themselves. A jumble of voices, all telling him the same thing. Telling him the truth. _Monster. Freak. Untustworthy._

They were ever present, never silent. Always there. They screamed at him during daylight hours, his head pounding with the force of their words. They invaded his dreams at night, taunting him with his mistakes. _Your fault._ He could never escape them. And he was drowning in them.

At first he'd reached out to Dean, but Dean was still angry.

_You chose a DEMON over your own BROTHER!_

So Sam quit trying and just let himself drown. Some days were easier than others. The voices just murmured at him in the back of his head, and they were easy enough to ignore. And then there were those days where Dean slipped, sad something, did something that brought all the guilt and the pain back and then they were screaming at him. _Your fault. Monster! Freak! You set Lucifer free. Your fault!_

Today Sam's head hurt with how loud they were. He wasn't even sure what had set them off. He was nauseous, sensitive to light and sound; this was the worst he'd ever been. He'd passed it off as sickness to Dean, who'd handed him some pills and offered to get another room so Sam wouldn't be bothered. Sam was grateful for the silence. And at the same time he hated it, it felt heavy and wrong. Alone in the room, he curled around himself on the bed and tried to sleep.

With sleep came more voices, more painful memories and regrets. All of them, starting with Jess and following on down the road to letting Lucifer out of his cage.

_Why, Sam? Why didn't you save me?_

_Demon blood._

_Freak._

_Monster._

_It's your fault. You started the apocalypse. You ended the world. You set Lucifer free._

_It's all your fault._

_You're Lucifer's vessel. His true vessel._

_You can't fight your destiny. You aren't strong enough. You know that._

_You might as well just say yes. You're too weak. You'll say yes sooner or later._

_Just say, yes, Sam. End this._

_Say yes._

_Yes, Sam._

_It's alright. It'll all be over. Easy out._

_Just say yes. Sayyes.Yesyesyes, Sam. Say yes, Sam. Sayyessayyes. Accept Lucifer. Play your role. Do it, Sam. Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes...._

"SAM!" Sam shot up and out of bed gasping, on his feet, knife in hand, limbs shaking. His breath shuddered in his chest and his heart beat furiously against his rib cage, eyes scanning the room only to find Gabriel, of all people, staring up at him with sad eyes.

Gabriel reached out slowly, wrapping his hand around Sam's. The one holding the knife. With gentle fingers Gabriel slowly pulled the knife out of Sam's death grip, prying Sam's fingers away from it and setting it aside, hand recapturing Sam's wrist when the taller man would have walked away.

Sam looked back down at Gabriel, eyes tired and sad as the voices yammered on in the back of his mind. _He doesn't trust you either. Doesn't like you. Doesn't want you. Hates you. Wants you dead._  Gabriel reached up with his free hand, and Sam flinched back as it neared his face, eyes wide. Gabriel ghosted his knucles over Sam's forhead, warm and comfortable and not at all what Sam had been expecting.

Sam let out a sigh, eyes drifting shut as he unconciously leaned into the touch. _You don't deserve this._  With a hint of a smile Gabriel pushed his fingers through Sam's hair. And suddenly, they stopped. The voices stopped and it was finally quiet. Peaceful.

Sam gasped and his eyes flew open, staring at Gabriel in awe. Gabriel gave him a soft look.

"You've punished yourself enough, Sam." The archangel said gently.

"But, Gabriel, I don't..." Sam began. But Gabriel cut him off.

"Don't you even begin to tell me 'you don't deserve'. How long have those voices been nagging at you? Since this whole thing started? Sam, that's a long time to punish yourself for what you did."

"Gabriel. I set the devil free." Sam cried out. "How can anyone forgive that."

"Not your fault." Gabriel said matter-of-factly. Sam looked away, staring at the carpet. "Yeah, you may have pulled the trigger on this whole thing, but you were doing what you thought was right. You didn't know. You made some bad choices here and there, but you've atoned for them. That part of your life is over now." Gabriel's hand in Sam's hair moved to cup his cheek, turing Sam to face him, forcing Sam to meet his eyes.

"And as for the apocalypse," Gabriel said firmly, "That. Was not. Your. Fault." Those words. Sam had been desperatly wanting to hear them from someone. Anyone. Hopefully Dean, but somehow this was almost better. If an archangel could forgive him, say this wasn't his fault, then who was Sam to argue?

"Forgive yourself." Gabriel practically pleaded, and Sam broke down. The tears that he'd kept inside for so long fell and Gabriel tugged him forward, tucking Sam's face against his shoulder. The angel was smaller than Sam, but he felt so strong against him. Sam leaned against the archangel and let himself cry, and Gabriel just ran his hands down Sam's back and supported him.

When Sam had cried himself dry, Gabriel pulled back just enough to tug the hunter down for a soft kiss. It was barely there, but it sent Sam's head spinning.

"And Sam," Gabriel said against Sam's lips. "Don't say yes to my brother. Please. Don't even consider it."

"I won't." Sam promised with a weary sigh.

"C'mon, Sasquatch. Sleep time." Gabriel said. Sam let himself be tucked down amongst the sheets, but something felt different. It no longer felt like the matress was made out of crumpled-up newspaper, it dipped just right under his weight. Felt like a cloud. And hadn't the sheets been some hideous pastel colored patter before? Huh.

Sam didn't dwell on it, though. Whatever had happened to his bed he certainly didn't mind, and when Gabriel crawled in next to him and pretty much volunteered for pillow duty, Sam **really** didn't mind. Gabriel was warm beneath his cheek, and the angel's fingers wandered easily over his face; trailed over his cheeks, under his eyes, stroked the worry lines away from his forhead, ghosted gently over his eyelids. They worked their way down his neck and into the hollow of his throat. They scratched at his scalp and rubbed behind his ears.

If Sam could have purred, he would have. As it was, he could hardly keep his eyes open. And then the air around him seemed to gain a gold shimmer, or maybe it was just a trick of the light. But Sam was suddenly very warm, and he thought for sure he felt almost-there feathers brushing against his skin. He looked up at Gabriel and the angel nodded in cofirmation, the wings wrapping more tightly around Sam, and between their warmth, Gabriel's fingers, and the steady heartbeat sounding beneath Sam's ear, the hunter didn't stand a chance. He was asleep in seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> Watching season five, and I have this head-cannon that everything everybody has said to say, even the things he knows they didn't mean stuck with him and haunt him, and along with his own self-blame and guilt, I just figure he's a real mess.


End file.
